


A Telepath Walks Into a Bar

by ximeria



Series: 2014 Fic-A-Week (all the XMFC AUs) [2]
Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bar/Pub, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Still Have Powers, Bar Room Brawl, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Walk Into A Bar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-11
Updated: 2014-01-11
Packaged: 2018-01-08 09:53:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,722
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1131226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ximeria/pseuds/ximeria
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik hates it when drunk idiots interrupt his flirting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Telepath Walks Into a Bar

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Deutsch available: [A Telepath Walks Into a Bar - Kommt ein Telepath in eine Bar](https://archiveofourown.org/works/2443304) by [marryoftheblood](https://archiveofourown.org/users/marryoftheblood/pseuds/marryoftheblood)



> Aaaaand another one from the [mcfassy generator](http://mcfassygenerator.tumblr.com/go). This one sparked a bar AU where Erik's the bartender and Charles is on the receiving end of his flirting.

  


Erik shut the door behind him, returning to the bar with a nod to Sean to let him know he was back to take over his shift. He exchanged a look with the bouncers who were keeping the brawlers in line. Normally he'd have been happy to dump them all in the hands of the local law enforcement, but this night was a little different.

The bar was a mutant friendly environment, but of course they still got hotheads in occasionally - in those cases, Erik happily dumped them in the lap of the local police. However, when it was their own kind, he knew it could get them significantly worse retributions.

Did that make it right? Of course it didn't, but nor did it change the fact that both attackers and victim would be dragged down town for interrogation and Erik really wanted to keep aforementioned 'victim' out of the reach of anyone else right this very moment.

If the guy hadn't been a telepath, the situation wouldn't have been half as much of a powder keg.

And if Erik hadn't been enjoying flirting with the guy for a good hour and a half while he'd been sitting at the bar, going from glum and tired to bouncy and with a razor sharp wit that had only drawn Erik in closer.

The first comments aimed at Charles had been… well, kind of rude, but he'd turned them away with a wink and a grin - and Erik had only found this even more attractive. It had all been aimed at his shorter stature, his pretty looks and his thick british accent, that had only become thicker as the night progressed and he'd drunk more.

Then somehow, they had figured out that he was telepath. Erik sometimes hated his own kind. They had been mutants, like most of the people in the bar, but the moment someone was 'outed' known as a telepath , everyone apparently developed an unhealthy case of paranoia. Which Erik thought was the epitome of idiocy.

He couldn't imagine in any way that they had anything in their empty heads that could ever interest a telepath.

Somehow it had escalated from there and before he could sniff out the impending fight, barstools were flying, leaving him to catch and deflect what he could, duck what he couldn't. The fight was over relatively quickly, though. Erik did employ some damned efficient bouncers.

Didn't mean his new friend hadn't managed a split lip and more than a few visible bruises. Erik was quite frankly itching to check the unseen ones. Under the clothes.

Azazel had taken the brawlers aside and Erik had no interest in what he was telling them. He knew Azazel well enough to know that the brawlers wouldn't be back and if they knew what was good for them, they wouldn't cause any more trouble anywhere _near_ the bar either.

"Go on, I'll take the rest of the night shift," Sean told him in a low voice when Erik once again failed to take a drink order.

Erik opened his mouth to disagree, but then there was a displacement of air next to him and he turned his head to stare right into Azazel's face. "What have I said about distance when you do that shit?" Erik asked, knowing he sounded more tired than annoyed.

"Kid's right," Azazel said. "Go upstairs, check on your dorogaya."

Erik sent him a warning look and tightened the bracelet the Russian was wearing around his left wrist. Of course, ever the asshole, Azazel just laughed out loud and pounded him on the back. Erik may or may not have stumbled a step or two. For a skinny bastard, Azazel was damned strong.

"We'll handle the rest of the night, boss," Sean said, waving him off.

"Make sure the till's right, and the inventory…"

"We know, we know," Azazel cut him off.

Just to spite them, Erik stayed another ten minutes before finally giving in and heading up the back stairs to the flat he kept above the bar.

On most nights he was at work so he barely noticed the noise and this night the sounds from downstairs were muffled enough for him to ignore them as he let himself in, hoping that his guest hadn't turned on him and made off with the silver.

"You don't have enough silver to make it worth the effort," Charles muttered, still seated at the high bar that ran down one side of Erik's kitchen, acting as the divider between his kitchen and the living room.

Erik stopped and kicked off his shoes before heading around the counter to take away the rapidly thawing bag of peas, rooting around in the fridge to exchange it with one of carrots.

"Not quite the same," Charles muttered. He looked about ready to keel over. Erik snorted and handed him the bag.

Leaving him alone for a moment, Erik headed through to his bedroom, pulling out a pair of sweats and a worn t-shirt. It'd have to do. There was no way he was letting his guest go home at one in the morning.

Possibly he'd been gone longer than he'd thought, because it seemed Charles was out cold, bent in an uncomfortable angle with his head pillowed on the bag of frozen carrots. Reaching out, Erik put his hand on his shoulder and a split second later, he was on his back on the floor, Charles leaning over him, arm pulled back and hand curled into a tight fist.

Erik forced his own breathing and reaction down. Charles didn't need more bruises than he'd already had. Relaxing into a sprawl on the floor, he met Charles' eyes. He frowned when he realized that the blue eyes were slightly glazed over as if Charles wasn't really seeing him.

"It's okay," Erik said quietly. What the hell just happened? He wasn't a pushover but Charles had thrown him on the ground like he'd been a kid in the playground. It was a lot hotter than Erik would have thought, but he wasn't sure that Charles was altogether there.

Charles seemed to be frozen on the spot for a moment before he all but collapsed on top of Erik, face buried against his neck, one leg across Erik's thighs and it wasn't lost on Erik just how close that knee was to the more intimate and vulnerable parts of his body.

"Have to let go," Charles muttered.

Erik frowned. But before he could ask, Charles sat back up, reeling a bit as he'd obviously done so too fast for the state he was in. "I'm not that drunk," he muttered, "I just lost control for a moment."

A haziness that Erik hadn't really noticed before now receded and his head was clearer than it had been all night. And suddenly Erik had a hankering what had just happened.

"You were bleeding all over the place weren't you?" He kept his voice even. He wasn't angry, he'd met telepaths before who avoided alcohol for that very same reason.

"Not as much as you think," Charles replied, pulling back and away from Erik. "I only ended up in someone else's head when I nodded off at your table. Sorry about the reaction."

Raising an eyebrow, Erik wasn't about to ask him how he could apparently keep from slipping when drunk, but falling asleep he instantly went on a walkabout. "Let's get your battle wounds looked at," he said instead, getting to his feet and offering Charles a hand up.

Charles looked up at him, for a moment a completely unguarded look on his face before it returned to a more wary look.

Erik wanted that look back, but for now he'd settle for Charles letting him check the split lip that had started bleeding again and the bruise along the left cheekbone looked pretty painful as well.

Not taking the hand offered, Charles stood, swaying a little on his feet before finally reaching out to grab for the countertop. Erik was faster though, even if he was aware he might get a fist to the face for his attempt to help.

For a moment, Charles stared at him, then shrugged. "Do you expect payment for this?" he asked snidely.

"You're a fucking rude little shit, aren't you?" Erik asked, a little surprised. He'd spent that much time flirting with the guy and he was pretty sure he'd just been offered sexual payment for helping.

Charles squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, making a face. "I might be more drunk than I thought?"

"Uh-huh," Erik replied, trying not to laugh. "For the record, I'm not expecting sexual favors for patching you up - if you'd started the fight, I would've possibly dropped you off at the emergency if you were lucky - since you didn't," Erik said with a shrug, "just let me help you."

"And you don't expect anything in return?" Charles opened his eyes and shot him a look of disbelief.

"What the hell kind of people do you normally hang around if you think I'd expect sexual favors for helping you _after_ you got hurt in the bar I happen to own?" Erik forced his voice back down when he realized that he'd raised it.

"Oh… it's your bar?" Charles looked surprised.

"I worked hard to get it and I actually enjoy the bartending as well," Erik replied drily. "Now can I check you for any life threatening damage while we chit-chat?"

Charles rolled his eyes and hissed when he did and swayed again.

"Don't do that," Erik told him, "you're drunk." He picked up the clothes he'd dropped on the floor. "Do you want to do it yourself or do you need me to check you over."

Charles scratched the back of his head. "I'll be okay," he said. "But I wouldn't say no to a shower."

"You can have the fold-out couch for the night," Erik said gruffly. He'd imagined taking Charles up here when they'd been flirting downstairs, but there was no way in hell he was mentioning sex now that he'd just told Charles that that wasn't what he was after.

Charles' lips quirked and Erik wondered if he'd caught that little snippet.

"Don't argue," Erik told him, "I'll find the first aid kit and we'll have a go at your face." 

Charles nodded, and there was that slightly vulnerable look again, gone before Erik could fully decide if he was just seeing things.

Erik went through to the bedroom again, dropping his work clothes in the hamper and putting on his sweat pants and the t-shirt he'd slept in the previous night. He could tell by the feel of the watch he'd noticed Charles wearing that he was still in the bathroom. Going through his kitchen cupboards, he found a package of tea that his mother had left the last time she'd been there.

Taking a chance, he pushed the question in the general direction of Charles, tea, coffee, anything?

There was a brush of something startled and the image of a steaming cup of tea came back to Erik, who grinned stupidly to himself. Putting a pot of water on the stove, he pulled his first aid kit down from another cupboard and set it on the counter.

As if summoned, Charles came out of the bathroom, looking a little more awake, though the bruises to his face were taking on shades of green and blue already.

"Not sure how you like it," Erik said, putting the cup and tea down in front of him. "Milk and sugar?"

Charles nodded as he took the same seat that he'd been in when Erik had come upstairs. Erik put sugar and milk down in front of him, leaving him to it as he rooted through the first aid. "I don't think you'll need stitches," Erik said, stepping up next to Charles, carefully telegraphing his moves.

A thing that seemed to amuse the other man quite a bit. "I'm not going to slug you, I'm perfectly awake." Just to spite his own words, Charles yawned, giving Erik a sheepish look.

Erik refrained from commenting as he started cleaning the few scratches that Charles had gotten, including the lip and the patches of skin missing on his knuckles.

"Wouldn't have pegged you as a physical fighter," Erik said conversationally. He'd long since pushed his libido down and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn't having a sexual adventure tonight - and that he'd just settle for helping Charles feel a little better instead.

"My step brother was a bit of a troublemaker," Charles said evenly, but Erik could tell there was more to it. "I went to Oxford, as I think I told you tonight, and just for the hell of it, I took up boxing to get in shape."

Erik wasn't going to question that part. Somehow he had a feeling both things were strongly linked.

"Well, let me know if you want any painkillers," Erik finally said, "but I think plenty of water and rest will be enough."

Charles gave him a quick nod. "Yeah, thanks. Sorry about the mess downstairs."

Erik shook his head. "Like I said, wasn't your fault."

Charles just shrugged. He looked young and lost at that moment - such a contrast from earlier.

Erik yawned and shook his head. "I'll get you some sheets and pillows," he said, all but fleeing the living room to avoid getting caught staring more than was normal.

He was so focused on finding sheets in his closet that he didn't keep track of his guest, nor did he pay attention or he might have noticed him. When he turned around, his arms full of sheets and the extra pillow, he nearly collided with Charles who was more or less standing right behind him.

"Omph," Charles said, stumbling back a step. Erik dropped what he had in his hands and grabbed for him. The moment stretched out, Charles reaching for his arm and Erik latching onto him. Frozen in time they stared at each other, and thoughts raced through Erik's mind. How much he wanted to lean in and lick at the split skin of Charles' lip, wanted to fit his mouth over his and just lose himself.

How much he wanted to push Charles back onto his bed, examine his body; though not to see if he was hurt, but to find all the small secret places that would make him gasp and squirm.

Charles may or may not have heard him, but he pulled himself up and close to Erik, the heat from his body almost scorching. Erik was too surprised to react at first, too lost in his own fantasies, when Charles pressed his mouth against his with enough force to reopen the cut on his lip, the metallic tang of blood filling Erik's senses, the iron in the blood almost tangible to him.

There was no other way for Erik to react at first. The taste, the feel the… Finally he managed to break the kiss, gasping for air, his heart beat so loud in his ears he thought it might burst from his chest.

"You're drunk, Charles, you don't even know me." Erik was grasping at straws, he knew this. He wanted Charles, but he didn't want to wake up to regrets in the morning.

"We would have been up here anyway if the fight hadn't happened," Charles muttered, going almost cock-eyed staring at Erik's mouth. "Don't kid yourself we wouldn't."

Erik had to admit he was right. "But you're still drunk and hurt," he tried. He wasn't even sure why he was fighting this, because as much as his mind told him to turn Charles away, gently, his body was thrumming with it, was feeling the roaring, burning need.

"I'm less drunk than you seem to think," Charles muttered, leaning up to lick at Erik's mouth.

Really, Erik might have the reputation of a man with an iron will, but having the man he'd been flirting with through the evening, with this outcome in mind, trying to climb him like a mountain, eating him alive. There was will power and there was the inevitability of surrender.

Inevitable. Erik closed his eyes and breathed in deeply, his nostrils full of Charles' scent, something he would dearly love to wake up to smell in his sheets in the morning.

"I think I was promised an examination to make sure I wasn't hurt?" Charles mumbled against his mouth.

"Drop the stupid pick-up lines," Erik growled, rubbing his hands up and down Charles' sides, feeling the heat of his body through the thik layer of clothes. _Erik's_ clothes, even.

They stumbled towards the bed and somehow, without Erik noticing, he was suddenly on his back on the bed, Charles following him down, kissing whatever patch of bare skin he could get to.

"I'm not the one who offered," Charles commented drily, if a little breathless.

Erik rolled them over and shut him up, though the small wince as he pressed his body against Charles' wasn't missed. Of course, Erik taking care not to be too rough with Charles, meant that Charles had the upper hand again a moment later.

And Erik was on his back once more. "Pushy bastard," he muttered without heat. While he was normally the one to push and demand, he very much liked when his bedpartners had enough personality to fight him for the upper hand.

"I'm not fragile," Charles mumbled darkly, forcing his thigh in between Erik's, pushing it up hard against Erik's straining cock.

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Erik grinned and clamped his hands down on Charles' ass, arching his back to push against Charles and bending his leg to allow Charles to grind down against it for friction.

Erik found his climax disgustingly fast. Possibly he'd been turned on since he'd first started talking to Charles. Possibly he'd just needed to get laid for ages and Charles was a prime specimen of a catch to land.

"Thank you, you're not so bad yourself," Charles muttered.

Erik laughed, then rolled them over. He held Charles down with a hand to his abdomen and pulled the sweats down over his hips. Not far enough to get them off, just enough to allow his still hard cock to escape.

"I should possibly say something about reading minds, but if I can make you lose control during sex, I must be doing something right," Erik said with a wink, before leaning down to lick from the root to the tip - glad he was more or less lying on top of Charles' legs, as he arched up in surprise. "Careful, you could put someone's eye out with that thing," he continued teasingly.

Looking up for a moment, Erik found Charles staring at him in surprise. Not taking his eyes from Charles', he leaned down and licked the same path again, Charles' cock twitching and more precome leaking from the tip.

Erik held him down for another moment, delighted with the look of surprise on Charles' face. Like he hadn't expected Erik to keep going beyond his own pleasure. With a wink, Erik leaned over the the bedside table and pulled out the drawer, rooting around in it and for a moment worried that… No, there was still a couple of condoms in there. Hopefully they weren't too old.

"Since I get the feeling neither of us a celibate," Erik said, holding it up and nodding at Charles' cock. He didn't enjoy it as much with the taste of rubber, but it was the best he could do on such short notice and he _wanted_ to. Rolling it onto Charles cock wasn't too difficult. What truly tested his focus, was the staring Charles was doing, still looking surprised.

Erik vowed to wipe that look of his face and a moment later, he did his level best, and judging from the noises Charles was making, he was doing a damned good job. The heat of Charles' cock was fantastic in his mouth, even through the latex of the condom, even with the disgusting taste of it, but at least Erik had grabbed one of the less vile ones. He could feel Charles trying to move under him, but he meanly held him down and set his own rhythm, feeling saliva running down his chin.

When he really had Charles going, he realized that he was gripping the sheets and that really wasn't what Erik had aimed for. Without letting up, he reached to the side and grabbed Charles' hand, wrestling it up to leave it on the back of his own head. It seemed Charles didn't really get it until Erik repeated it with the other hand and Charles accidently pulled at his hair.

Erik ground his own soft cock down against Charles' leg, because damn, that was what he'd been aiming for. And bless the man, Charles got the idea between one or another stuttered apology. He tightened his fingers in Erik's hair and guided him deeper, harder, faster.

The fullness in his mouth and the feel of his own stubble against Charles' balls when he dipped deepest, and Erik had to wonder if he'd get hard again himself. Maybe Charles would let him… He aimed a vivid image of himself behind Charles who was on all four, his cock caught between Charles' thighs, lube and come making the skin glisten.

Apparently that was more than enough to bring Charles to a loud climax. Erik pulled back, the back of his throat scratchy, his jaw aching a little. He felt Charles' hands fall from his head as he sat back up, carefully taking the condom off Charles and tying it to deposit it in the wastebasket next to the bed.

"You…" Charles reached up, made a weak grab for him.

Erik grinned and slid into the bed next to him, pulling the rumpled sheets up to cover them.

"Yeah," he replied, sliding his hand down to put his palm flat against the warm and smooth inside of Charles' thigh, not bothering to pull his pants back up. He could feel Charles' cock attempting a twitch against his wrist. "Oh, yeah," he repeated, not even attempting to hide his smirk.

The End


End file.
